


hot ice and wondrous strange snow

by Lilith



Category: October Daye Series - Seanan McGuire
Genre: A Red-Rose Chain, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 20:59:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5470565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilith/pseuds/Lilith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is a party, an extra-fake trial marriage, an unexpected indoor snowstorm, and a Prince of Cats who is not particularly impressed with self-denial based on possible future expectations.  (Spoilers for the entire series up through <i>A Red-Rose Chain</i>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	hot ice and wondrous strange snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lauren (notalwaysweak)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/gifts).



As a rule, I'd be confident in saying that I don't get cold very easily. For one thing, I was born in a much more variable climate than the one in which I currently reside, making me one of the most chill-resistant of my local acquaintance. For another, well, there's the whole magical fairy prince thing. We tend to be resilient. And, if at all possible, stoic.

However, there are limits. I was fairly certain I could feel an icicle slowly forming from the point of my left ear, and as such, was beginning to consider the possibility that stoicism was actually more than a little overrated.

"Oak and ash," I muttered, rubbing my arms briskly in a futile attempt to generate more heat, "how did this  _ happen _ ?"

My companion, who was huddled in a miserable crouch nearby, managed to adopt a mildly superior tone in spite of his chattering teeth. "This happened," he replied, fixing me with an apparently nonchalant green-eyed gaze, "because you did not look where you were going."

I kicked him.

 

* * *

 

It had all started innocently enough, as usual. We were still in residence at the court of Silences, assisting with the transition of power. My knight was shaky, but mending, and Queen Arden Windermere in the Mists had arrived to offer her personal assistance (such as it was).

Arden is still a little rough around the edges, and after her brief, panicked disappearance from Muir Woods in the aftermath of the attack on Madden, I had some renewed misgivings. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to try speaking to her about the privileges and duties of royalty, as I had when we first discovered her living in the basement of a mortal bookstore, but, well … I'd considered asking my father about the loan of a royal advisor or two.

She seemed to have regained her resolve since Toby had dragged her back to her throne (again); clearly, the prospect of using Walther's miraculous new remedy to wake Madden up wasn't hurting.  _ And _ her brother, of course. (I didn't think the magnitude of this development was going to sink in anytime soon, for any of us. Really, just. Wow.) So although the state of things in Silences was still pretty sobering on a lot of levels, there was plenty to celebrate, and Arden was feeling motivated.

I wasn't around for the actual conversation, but from what I gathered later, Toby happened to mention my upcoming birthday, and things … spiraled from there.

 

* * *

 

"An inter-kingdom Lughnasadh Ball?" Raj frowned in puzzlement, not taking his eyes away from the screen as he jerked the controls, almost splattering my Inkling with lurid orange paint. "Queen Arden does realize that your parentage remains a secret, does she not? Holding an entire festival to celebrate the date of your birth seems kind of … indiscreet."

"The party's not actually in my honor," I explained glumly. "That was just what gave her the idea. The most successful thing Her Majesty's done since her confirmation was the Yule Ball, so I guess her thought process is, go with what works." I couldn't keep a hint of resentful condescension out of my tone, so I didn't really try.

"In that case, I'm not wholly certain what you're complaining about. I thought you enjoyed these traditional Divided Courts festivities." Raj didn't sound particularly impressed; Cait Sidhe don't go in much for fanciful formalwear and elaborate courtly rituals as a rule, notwithstanding Tybalt's encouragement of any occasion that forced Toby to wear a dress.

"Balls _ aren't _ a Lughnasadh tradition! It's more of a village harvest festival kind of thing. Feasting and folk dancing and sometimes a bonfire or two, if you feel like it."  Not to mention that it's also intended as a celebration of trade and a time for the drawing up of contracts. That part, I had to admit, made it a good choice for promoting inter-kingdom harmony.

"Well then, I  _ really _ don't understand your objection. Not if there's a feast involved." Raj sounded almost envious, the feline glutton. Not that royal banquets are anything to sneeze at … but in this case, they were overshadowed by the terrible looming threat I had to face.

"My objection is that it's  _ also _ traditionally a matchmaking festival!" I vented my disgust with a blistering on-screen barrage of purple ink. "In the spirit of celebrating our new friendship with the Kingdom of Shadows, our queen has decided to hold ceremonial 'trial marriages' as the central event of the ball, especially between eligible subjects of the different kingdoms. If I don't bring a date--" Raj's squid dove for the cover of the remaining slender stream of orange--"I'm liable to wind up literally  _ tied _ to some random courtier twice my age for the entire evening. Or worse. May has been giving me speculative looks all week when she thinks I'm not paying attention," I finished darkly.

Raj winced in my direction, clearly grasping the enormity of my situation at last. May can be relentless and terrifying when she gets it into her head to meddle in her friends' personal lives. I think she goes easy on Toby because she knows pushing her too hard will just end in stubborn refusal to hear any kind of reason--her borrowed memories must give her a good sense of just how it feels to be that bullheaded--but just about everyone else is fair game.

After a moment, he offered, "I suppose you had better bring someone, in that case. What about Chelsea? She's rather cute, and not bad to talk with. She has good taste in movies."

I gave this suggestion all the consideration it deserved. "That is a  _ terrible _ idea. I'm pretty sure Etienne would gut me on principle." He'd probably feel badly about it later, when he learned my parents' identity--Etienne was nothing if not a loyal subject--but then again, maybe not. His rigorous devotion to liege, lord and the strictest interpretation of good manners all suffered a miraculous relaxation when it came to matters involving his recently-discovered, formerly-changeling daughter.

Raj shrugged smoothly. "I'll do it, then."

I gaped at him, and he took advantage of my distraction to rain orange death on my poor digital avatar. Ignoring this, I objected, "It would  _ never _ work. We can't go as friends, and May would see through us immediately. You'd just wind up handfasted to another visiting noble."

Raj grinned at me, all flashing teeth, and I resisted an odd impulse to gulp audibly. "I promise, I can be a most convincing boyfriend for the evening. Nobody will bother you with me on your arm."

I snorted. "But--"

He rolled his eyes, a little annoyed now; I could almost see his ears twitching as they would have done in cat form. "It will work, as long as  _ you _ do not give us away. Or are you ashamed to be seen with me?"

"What? No!" This actually stung a little, privately. I hadn't meant anything of the kind, of course, but all the same … Raj is my best friend, and that is already a strange accident in the wider context of our relative positions in Faerie. Raj is a Prince of Cats, and I … well, I'm the Crown Prince of the Westlands in disguise. By all rights, we shouldn't even  _ like _ each other, or deign to do much more than acknowledge each other in public. That's just how things usually are between the Cait Sidhe and the other Faerie courts, and sometimes, I'm afraid that once my fosterage ends … but that's still years away.

I swallowed around a lump of guilt and worry and flashed him a smug grin of my own. "Of course not. I'm just concerned that you won't be able to live up to my performance. These are high stakes, after all."

Raj elbowed me painfully in the ribs, adopting an artificially supercilious tone. "I could most certainly beat you with one hand tied behind my back, you churl."

Or tied to my own hand. The thought triggered a curious sensation in my chest, which I studiously ignored … quickly turning my attention to meting out brightly-colored video game payback, while Raj yowled in undignified protest.

 

* * *

 

The royal knowe was festooned with garlands made from woven cornstalks and blackberry brambles, the latter bursting with fruit that perfumed the redwood-paneled halls and grew back when plucked. Raj snagged a sweet cornbread cake from a bursting refreshment table with his free hand as we followed Toby, Tybalt, May and Jazz into the main receiving room. Like them, our arms were linked, something that had elicited various odd and amused looks from the group. May had literally clapped a hand over Jazz's mouth when it looked like she was about to question the arrangement.

The curiously knowing expression on her face made me think that I had, perhaps, miscalculated … but it was too late now. Raj was a warm, solid presence at my side; I'd never noticed that he ran particularly hot before, but perhaps I was simply more aware under the scrutiny of others. More than one passing glance snagged on us as we made our entrance.

"Welcome to His Highness, Raj, Prince of Dreaming Cats, and Quentin, Squire to Sir October Daye and fosterling to the Duke of Shadowed Hills."

The look we got from Arden as the herald announced us, on the other hand, suggested that I had chosen wisely after all. Standing on a low dais in the middle of the room, she looked as though someone had stolen her puppy; or, I suppose, her secret Crown Prince. The Queen, of course, is one of the few individuals in the Mists who is aware of my identity, since I'd revealed it by way of convincing her to come out of hiding and claim her throne. I would not have appreciated her using the knowledge to try and lay some preliminary diplomatic groundwork without consulting me first. Thank Titania, she wouldn't have that opportunity. I know she means well, but she's anxious to prove herself, especially after the incident with Madden and the elf-shot.

Arden's apparent disappointment didn't last long, in any case; I saw her turning back to beam with palpable joy at her brother, Nolan, who stood tall and dignified by her shoulder, taking in the crowds of revelers with great interest. On her other side, a broad, gilt ceremonial ribbon of coppery gold braided intricately around their forearms and joined hands, stood Walther's cousin Torsten, with his royal parents standing nearby, similarly bound together. The prince of Silences looked mildly put off by the Queen's distraction, but it was hard to blame her; after all, only a week before, Nolan had been stuck in an enchanted sleep for more than seventy years. For all that Arden's unpracticed regency stresses me out a little, I couldn't help being glad for her. I haven't seen my own baby sister in six years, which doesn't exactly compare, but I really miss her.

"Hey boys! Ready to get married?" My attention was jerked away from the royal families by May's teasing question, and when I glanced up, she nodded towards a short line of stately couples standing before a makeshift altar fashioned from a cornucopia's worth of piled fruits and vegetables, loosely held together by a framework of cornstalks and ribbon. As we took our places at the end, I noticed much longer lines of single revelers, apparently submitting to playful, assessing questions from members of the knowe's staff. As I watched, a blushing Daoine Sidhe girl was led by the hand to a smirking Tuatha I knew in passing from previous events at Shadowed Hills. I thought her name was Celidah.

It looked like Arden's scheme was working out as planned; there was a champagne brightness to the crowd, an air of playful silliness and enjoyment that eased away years of inter-kingdom tension and the painful memories of past strife. I was aware that there were plenty of deeper wounds under the surface, breaches that would take much more time and effort than a single evening's mummery to heal, but … it was evident that something new was starting between the Mists and Silences, and maybe extending out even further. I definitely recognized some currently-bipedal Merrow nobles, selkies, and other denizens of the Undersea among the candidates, and more mingling in the general crowd … and some stranger folk as well. A couple of Folletti, of all the oddities, wearing gauzy, sparkling scarves that gave vague shape to their transparency; I wondered if they were present in the service of some overly-suspicious noble. I caught a glimpse of Li Qin and April O'Leary, Countess of Tamed Lightning, standing back against the far wall.  Not far from them, a broad-shouldered and forbidding old man with a voluminous white beard stood in one corner, wearing intricate, Slavic-looking robes and surrounded by a retinue all clad in snowy-white furs, in spite of the warm summer night. Some of the other guests standing nearby seemed to be shivering.

Raj's hand tightened minutely on my arm, and I blinked at him, distracted. He frowned and said severely, "Your attention is wandering much too freely for a man on the arm of a Prince of Cats. Do you wish me to release you from my companionship,  _ dear one _ , so that you can be free to play the field?" He cast a significant glance towards the long lines of single Fae across the hall.

I swallowed the urge to stick my tongue out at the sarcastic endearment, smirking instead and leaning in a little. "As if I could really have eyes for anyone but you,  _ kitten _ ."

He colored slightly, but only returned my smile with a sharp-edged one of his own. "Excellent." There was just a hint of a purr in his voice.

I felt a faint, answering tremor run down my spine, but I rolled my eyes and made myself relax a little. The line had moved while I was distracted; a little ahead of us, Jazz and May were standing in front of the altar, smiling at each other as a cord was wound around their outstretched arms. Toby and Tybalt were up next.

Toby leaned into Tybalt, nudging him with one red-silk-clad shoulder and grinning mischievously. "You know, we could get the whole thing over with for real, right now. Avoid the big fuss and better-than-likely chance of mayhem."

Tybalt looked at her gravely. "I am only amused by this suggestion, little fish, because I can always tell when you are trying to pull my tail. You cannot think for an instant that I would pass up as many chances as I may have to display my very great fortune in winning your regard."

"Aww," Toby replied with (mostly) faux regret, and they stepped forward. Raj and I exchanged a mildly exasperated look, and for a minute, things felt normal. Then it was our turn.

The officiant was Jin, from Shadowed Hills, her wings gleaming in the warm candlelight that pervaded the hall. She gave us a surprised look, then beamed as she gestured for us to approach. "Taking after your knight, Quentin? Not that I can blame either of you … very handsome tomcats, both of them." To my annoyance, I could feel my cheeks heating, but Raj just gave her a slightly mocking bow. "Now then, hands out, please."

Raj slid his hand down my arm, twining our fingers together, and I could feel my face flushing even brighter. I set my jaw in irritation at my own stupidity and didn't look at him.

Jin lifted a length of gilt cord and intoned briskly, "Quentin of Shadowed Hills. Raj of the Court of Cats. By the Root and the Branch, the Oak and the Ash and the Thorn, I do here bind your hands in place of your hearts and the hearts of the lands to which in turn you are bound. May all roads be open to you both, may all fires be kind, and may the Three smile upon your union." As she spoke, she wove the cord, and at the word "union," tied it with a flourish. I wiggled my fingers a little, experimentally, against the bonds. Raj's remained curled around my palm.

"Ahem." I blinked, glancing quickly up at Jin; I hadn't realized I'd looked down in the first place. Her lips were twitching slightly. "It would be traditional to seal the binding with a kiss."

I turned to Raj, who raised his eyebrows at me, his mouth quirked up on one side. Then he leaned forwards and pressed his lips lightly against mine, barely lingering long enough for me to feel the pressure before straightening up so casually that he was almost shrugging. I knew that my blush was a lost cause, but at least he was also looking a little pink. We  _ had _ been going for verisimilitude, hadn't we?

Jin was almost beaming now, and she gave my shoulder a little nudge. "Now go and enjoy the night!" Grinning a little helplessly, I let her shoo us away from the altar, tugging Raj along with me by our clasped hands.

By unspoken mutual consent, our first and most important stop was the nearest refreshment table. Suddenly, I was starving. We piled our plates high with corn cakes, oatcakes, blackberry tarts, and beef and vegetable pasties, then stood together in companionable quiet, enjoying our spoils as we watched the crowd. An unseen band had struck up a lively tune, and many of the handfasted couples had begun to dance, whirling around the royal dais with a much more carefree gaeity than I was used to seeing at court celebrations. I caught a glimpse of May and Jazz laughing and clutching at each other as they circled past, although it didn't look as though Tybalt had convinced Toby to join in. Yet.

I snagged a glass of blackberry wine from a passing server's tray and almost choked on it, as I suddenly caught a glimpse of Chelsea Ames, Raj's original suggestion for my evening’s companionship. She was dancing a little awkwardly with Dean Lorden, just to the side of the throng. He looked as though he was patiently teaching her the steps, although it didn't appear as though he particularly minded, either. Dean's a nice guy.

Then I noticed Sir Etienne lurking nearby, his hand bound with that of an equally exasperated and amused-looking Bridget Ames, his eyes locked implacably on his daughter and the Count of Goldengreen. I nudged Raj and nodded in their direction, and he gave a great peal of laughter. The way his adam's apple bobbed in the smooth column of his throat was … distracting. I drained my glass and looked for another.

I'm not actually that great at lying to myself, even after years of Toby's sterling example. Raj is very attractive, with the easy, fluid grace that all the Cait Sidhe seem to possess … except for when he occasionally trips over his own feet, which is weirdly endearing. His hair is unfairly soft, and he has a habit of falling asleep in my lap in cat-form; he purrs in his sleep, which I've been saving up to embarrass him with at the right opportunity. He's vain, a smartass, and a total asshole a lot of the time, and worst of all, he's my best friend in all of Faerie.

That didn't mean I could do anything about it.

As I was finishing off my second drink, Raj set his empty plate down with decision. "I believe I am neglecting my boyfriend-ly duties," he informed me in a lofty tone, shaking his head at himself in mock-disapproval. "May I have this dance, Your Highness?"

I set down my glass in order to smack his shoulder with my free hand, but nobody was close enough to hear him, so I smirked a little, too. "I would be honored, Your Highness." With a snorting giggle, he half-dragged me out onto the dance floor.

Dancing with our hands tied together proved to be a little more challenging than I would have expected, although I was also starting to feel slightly lightheaded. There was a brief tussle over where to put our free hands, but I finally conceded to placing mine on his shoulder, while his landed on my waist. Rolling my eyes in amusement, I only tried to trip him a couple times as he began to spin me around with the rest of the crowd. For his part, he wasn't the most refined dancer; he set a sort of romping, unstudied pace, but as that fit the mood of the room rather well, I did my best to match it.

He grinned, unguarded and happy, and I couldn't have helped grinning back if I'd tried. For all the easy langor that the Cait Sidhe are famous for, this was the most truly relaxed I'd seen him in company in a long time. Ever since his creep of a father had tried to force him into assassinating Tybalt, and then died with that ugliness left between them, he had become a lot more inscrutable and wary, something I recognized as his way of acknowledging and preparing for his duty. I understood, and it made it all too easy to remember my own, as well. Not that I was really able to dwell on any of this as we galloped giddily through the ranks of our fellow dancers, laughing as we went. His hand was hot on my waist, and the candlelight brought out the reddish tones in his dark, flying hair.

A wicked glint came into his eyes as we went around for the third or fourth time--I couldn't say--and his hand at my waist slipped downward, resting on my ass. His smile grew to nearly Cheshire proportions as he squeezed deliberately.

I jerked in surprise, losing my footing. As his eyes widened in sudden alarm, I stumbled backwards, flailing and pulling him with me as I crashed into something solid, but yielding and soft, which gave a surprised "Oh!" There was a tinkling of breaking glass, and we tumbled to the ground in a tangled heap; Raj landing on top and knocking the wind out of me, our arms bent at an awkward angle between us.

I felt a sudden chill, and looked down to see wide, pale eyes peering up at me through a ruff of blue fur, crowned by a mass of golden curls. Beyond, I could see large, heavy-looking felt boots, and just then, a deep voice from somewhere above them barked something angry in a language I vaguely recognized as Russian.

With a hiss of alarm, Raj pulled me to my feet. I gasped, trying to get my breath back to apologize, while the tall, fur-coated girl we had knocked over stood and carefully replaced an elaborate crown on her head. She looked almost amused in spite of a spreading blackberry-dark stain across her chest, but the man with the enormous white beard clamped one huge hand on her shoulder and fixed thunderous eyes on my face.

"My lord, I am so very--" my words, which came out in an embarrassingly high pitch, died as the temperature of the air around us dropped so drastically that my cheeks stung. Before I could finish my apology, much less find my manners, Raj turned tail and dashed into the crowd, dragging me behind him.

"Raj, what are you--stop--" he ignored my attempts to get him to halt our plunge through the throng of revelers, only slowing as we turned down a narrower, sharply curved passage that I recognized as leading towards the kitchens. The music and laughter was suddenly cut down to a distant clatter behind us. A couple of Hobs passed us in the other direction, too well-disciplined to give us more than a passing glance as they carried fresh drinks into the grand hall.

It felt as though the chill of the angry stranger's magic had followed us through the crowd, and I shivered as we stumbled to a halt. With no warning, a freezing cold hand landed on my shoulder, and I yelped and spun, almost knocking Raj and myself to the ground again.

The diminutive changeling who had come up behind us winced up at me, looking concerned. She was very pretty, pale and delicately built, but a tank top with a band logo was just barely visible through the fabric of her long, white gown, which fell all the way to the floor. Her black hair was swept back in a choppy ponytail.

"You have to hide," the girl said urgently, not releasing my shoulder. "The General is very angry, and it will take him some time to give up on retaliating. Come on, this way," and she tugged me towards the kitchen . Something was bothering me about her, but Raj seemed all too eager to follow, and I was swept along as we pushed past the great doors, unnoticed by the throng of kitchen staff busily putting the finishing touches on the Lughnasadh feast.  We ducked into one of the many pantries and towards another door between the shelves of supplies.

"In here," she whispered, pushing the door open; as I followed Raj, I turned to take a closer look at her face. She was smiling a blue-lipped smile--blue?--and I realized what I'd been missing.

"No footsteps--no  _ feet _ !" But it was too late. The door clanged shut behind us, and we were plunged into freezing darkness. I reached out, not too surprised to find that the door was no longer there; just empty space, and a chill, damp sensation that I realized was the beginnings of a light snowfall.

 

* * *

 

"Ow!" Raj complained, rubbing the spot where my very justified kick had landed. "I was only answering your question." I didn't bother dignifying that with a response.

"I can't believe that we're going to freeze to death in the middle of  _ August _ ." What a delegation from the coldest reaches of the Summerlands (clearly, not the most accurately named realm of Faerie) had been doing at the ball I couldn't guess. Maybe it was a plot. I huffed angrily, watching the snow thicken around me.

The ceiling, as well as the walls, were invisible. I was pretty sure we were really just in the knowe's great ice house, but thanks to the yuki-onna changeling's spell, we might as well have been lost miles into a frozen wasteland. We'd already spent the first half-hour of our imprisonment searching for an exit, untying our arms to allow us more freedom to flail around helplessly.

Raj made an impatient grumbling noise. "We will freeze much less quickly if you would just get  _ down _ here," he complained. I gave him a dubious look, and he explained in exasperated tones "Huddling together will preserve body heat, of course. Now come," he demanded, kneeling up and tugging at the bottom of my trousers.

Gingerly, I crouched down beside him, inching in close and reaching out to put my arms around his shoulders. With a pleased, shaky gasp, he wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face in my neck. I hissed a little as his cold nose made contact with my skin, but the wisdom of his suggestion quickly became apparent as our shivering subsided. His warm breath puffed out against my throat, and I began to card my fingers through his soft hair. After a moment, I could feel the slow, deep vibration of his purr.

Suddenly, it occurred to me that something strange was going on. "Hey, Raj?"

"Yes?" His voice was muffled against my throat, and I shivered, though not from the temperature this time.

"Why aren't you a cat right now?"

His arms tensed a little around my waist, and I felt him shifting, before he lifted his head slightly to peer up into my eyes. He slowly raised an eyebrow, his thumbs stroking against the fabric of my vest, and I felt myself blushing again.

"You really are being very thick," Raj complained, but there was a teasing quality to his voice, "and I'm not sure I believe you, since I'm fairly certain we are thinking more or less the same thing."

I frowned, and opened my mouth to frame a denial, but apparently he wasn't done talking.

"It's true that I would be considerably warmer right now if I were wearing my fur," he commented, tilting his chin up, "but if I were a cat, I could not do this." And he kissed me.

This time, it wasn't a press of the lips, but aggressive and biting, and I opened my mouth involuntarily, kissing him back before I had a chance to think better of it. His hands came up to clutch at the back of my head, and for a few moments I completely forgot to be cold at all.

Then I pulled away, gasping out, "Wait, we can't--I don't--"

Raj gave me a puzzled frown, stiffening. "Have I made a mistake? I was rather sure you were enjoying that as much as I was."

"No, I … I was," I was mumbling a little. "But Raj, you're, and I'm, well," I trailed off. "We're from different worlds, and we both have a duty to our people--I have a duty. I'm not like Toby. I'm not free to just date a Prince of Cats, even if I want to."  I offered him a small, crooked smile.  "Even though I  _ do _ want to."

Raj snorted, and bit me on the shoulder. "Ow!" I protested.

"Quentin, shut up." He rolled his eyes at me. "You have just turned eighteen, and you will be fostering at Shadowed Hills for years before you even return home. I have no intention of replacing my uncle anytime soon. There is no reason I cannot be your boyfriend, since that  _ is _ what we both want." He sounded completely satisfied with this conclusion, and hissed lightly in annoyance when I started to protest. "Also, I am very cold, and it may be awhile before anyone notices that we are missing. I am going to kiss you again now." I gave up, and kissed him first, swearing under my breath as I did so.   _ Cats. _

 

* * *

 

A short time and a certain amount of wrestling later, I was lying on the ground, no longer feeling its chill. His leg was just beginning to insinuate itself between my thighs, when I glanced up and saw the misty face of the yuki-onna changeling peering curiously down at me out of the snow.

I yelled, and Raj started and elbowed me in the ribs. Swearing, I shoved him off me and sat up, glaring at the girl. She glared back, suddenly corporealizing in a rush of swirling snow.  The phantom storm vanished completely. We were in a large room, roughly hewn out of some kind of rock and stacked with massive blocks of ice. There was still no door.

"This doesn't usually happen," she announced, giving us an accusing look.

I rose to my feet, less gracefully than I would have liked, and drew myself up with as much dignity as I could muster. "Let us out," I commanded. The effect I was going for was somewhat spoiled by a full-body shiver, as the cold air seeped back in now that Raj was no longer pressed against me.

"The General told me to keep you in here until you had learned your lesson." She looked skeptical. "Have you? If he gets angry at me too, I"ll wind up sent home, and I've never been to California before."

"How dare you," Raj hissed. "I am a Prince of Cats. No denizen of the Divided Courts may treat me thus. My uncle--" He stopped when I put my hand on his shoulder. She didn't look impressed, and besides, I had a better idea.

"If you let us out, we could show you around the city." I eyed her tank top. "May told me about a pretty good rock club on 17th Street."

 

* * *

 

I couldn't  _ breathe _ .

"I can't BREATHE," I informed Toby. She snorted unsympathetically.

"This serves you right, kiddo," she said, setting the mug of hot tea with honey and a slice of lemon down on the end table near my head. "You caused a blizzard. In San Francisco. In  _ August _ . Arden's having a CONNIPTION, and I haven't even spoken to Sylvester yet. A magical flu pretty much qualifies as just desserts."

I winced. Much as I was not looking forward to the Duke's reaction, I was fairly certain that when I next checked my phone, I would find some very disappointed voicemails from a Toronto number. For now, it was on the dining room table, which was an impossible distance away. Even sitting up was exhausting.

Somewhere in the vicinity of my feet, Raj gave a pitiful miaow, but Toby just shook her head at him. "Pureblood kids are such babies," she announced, although she also reached out to smooth my hair off my forehead. "This isn't going to kill you. Get some rest; you're going to need your strength to face the music later on."

I groaned--not theatrically at  _ all _ , so there was no call for the muffled laughter I could hear from the next room--and closed my eyes, feeling Raj snuggle down closer atop the blankets. At least I had something to look forward to, as well.

And he was probably right; there was no need to look beyond that, just yet.

**Author's Note:**

> A thousand thanks to [ataratah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ataratah/pseuds/ataratah) for the fabulous betaing job! <3
> 
> I completely invented the specifics of these so-called Lughnasadh celebrations, especially the blessing for the handfasting and the one-night-only trial marriages, of course (although they were inspired by real, if [possibly apparently also historically unfounded](http://medievalscotland.org/history/handfasting.shtml), traditions). I also have never played Splatoon, although it looks super fun.
> 
> Happy Yuletide, notalwaysweak! Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to write this; I haven't participated in years, and I couldn't have asked for a more fun assignment. I hope you don't mind that I took it in a shippy direction. That general trope list grabbed me as soon as I saw your requests. ;)


End file.
